#Irish
THE birds that soar break space Like heavy bodies hurled! Not so the birds of night They move as in a sphere On which they touch always
SHALL I go bound and you go fre… And love one so removed from me? Not so; the falcon o’er my brow Hath better quest, I dare avow! And must I run where you will rid…
IT was pure indeed, The air we breathed in, the light… I and my brother, when we played t… Or piped to one another; then ther… Two young lads of an age with one…
O, to have a little house! To own the hearth and stool and al… The heaped up sods against the fir… The pile of turf against the wall! To have a clock with weights and c…
FOUL-FEATHERED and scald-nec… They sit in evil state; Raw marks upon their breasts As on men’s wearing chains. Impure, though they may plunge
NOT fingers that e’er felt Fine things within their hold Drew needles in and through, And smoothed out the fold, And put the hodden patch
THE fiddles were playing and play… The couples were out on the floor; From converse and dancing he drew… And across the door. Ah! strange were the dim, wide mea…
Jesus His Mother meets: She looks on Him and sees The Savior in Her Son: The Angel’s word comes back: Within her heart she says,
THEY have hanged Roger Casement… of a bell, Ochone, och, ochone, ochone! And their Smiths, and their Murra… Ochone, och, ochone, ochone!
ON the third day from this (Saint… I will be where no wind that fille… Has ever been, and it blew high or… For from this home-creek, from thi… I shall put forth: make ready, you…
In The Farmer’s House I’M glad to lie on a sack of leav… By a wasted fire and take my ease. For the wind would strip me bare a… The wind would blow oul’ age upon…
OH I wish the sun was bright in t… And the fox was back in his den O… For always I’m hearing the passin… Of the terrible robber men O! Of the terrible robber men.
O woman, shapely as the swan, On your account I shall not die: The men you’ve slain—a trivial cla… Were less than I. I ask me shall I die for these—
WHY do I look for fire to brand… What do I need, when all within i… And lo, she comes, carrying the li… And branding tool—she who is my de… What need have I for what is in h…
AND that was when the chevaldour Through the whole of night Sang, for the moon of mid-July Made the hillside bright. Morfydd to David ap Gwillam spoke